“What ever happened to class?” Edward stated. “Honestly, you go to someone’s house, suck his dick, and can’t even make a pot of coffee for your troubles. I hate this city and am counting down the days when I can move to Harrogate.”
Edward set down the box on the long table that separated the kitchen from the living area. He sniffed. “Is that coffee?”
“And breakfast!” Shirley exclaimed.
“Blade organized it,” I told them.
My fake fiancé waved, bemused expression on his face.
“Very nicely done,” Shirley said. Edward shook Blade’s hand.
“You ever want to play for the other team, you let me know.”
“Stop harassing him.”
“Are you helping with the wedding planning?” Shirley asked brightly.
“Uh, I have work to do.”
I kissed Blade. “Here, take a plate. Wedding planning can get ugly. It’s smart to duck out while you still can.”
“I’ll be in my study,” he said, taking the plate of food from me. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Edward piled his plate high with food, sat down, and took a huge bite of bagel and lox.
“You should just stay married to him forever if he’s going to feed you,” Shirley said.
“Maybe give him a courtesy blow job from me, eh?” Edward joked.
“Ah, no. I know how that ends.” I showed my friends the message from Nathan.
“You don’t think he’s going to make problems for you, do you?” Shirley asked in concern.
“He’s dating Stacy. He probably is using her as a way to get invited to all these wedding events. Blade is going to invite her, because apparently half of New York is attending.”
“How are we even going to seat that many people?”
“Surely not all of them will attend,” Edward said.
“You don’t understand small towns,” I told him. “This is going to be the big event of the year.”
“Ida set up a Facebook group for invitees,” Shirley said. “People are shopping for outfits. They’re wearing the Harrogate colors.” She made a face. The Harrogate town colors were gold and purple.
“It’s going to look like a middle school pep rally,” I said faintly.
“I tried to nudge them all into wearing pinks or peaches,” Shirley said, “and I was met with accusations that I was trying to kill tradition.”
“We are not doing the decorations in those colors,” I said.
“Oh, no way,” Edward said, scraping the last of the food off of his plate.
“Look on the bright side. The City Hall atrium has two-story-high ceilings. It’s an ornate Beaux-Arts building. We’ll wrap garlands of flowers around the columns and hang orchids, crystals, and lights from the ceiling. It will be like a fairy tale.” She showed me inspiration images on Pinterest of a historic library decorated for a wedding.
“Also,” Edward said, sitting down with another plate of food, “don’t worry, we are not using folding chairs. A guy I used to hook up with works for a prop studio. Remember that live-actionCinderella? He has two thousand really nice wicker chairs from the movie in his warehouse and said he’d rent them out to us. Look here.” He showed me a picture. “We’ll attach bunches of flowers to them on the aisles. It will still be classy.”
Maybe it was the food or the mimosas, but I was starting to get excited for the wedding.
“You need a really gauzy dress with a long, lacy veil, like Meghan Markle’s,” Shirley gushed. “You can have a nice low bun and a small but tasteful bouquet. The venue is really just a backdrop for the dress, after all.”
